


Christmas Costume

by ticketlove



Category: Ticketlove(band)
Genre: HIROKI IS SO OOC HERE IM SORRY KING, M/M, RHIS WAS BEFORE I KNEW WHAT A SEXY RAT YOU WERE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 22:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18040139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticketlove/pseuds/ticketlove





	Christmas Costume

Every day, it’s someone new. It’s like Yamada has a man for each day of the month, Rai thinks, bitterly, like some kind of sexual Baskin-Robbin’s. And it’s impossible to ignore, a given part of daily life in the dorms, one that couldn’t be avoided even if a person should try. And the fact that they’re roommates, well, that just seems to make it worse, a steady in-pour of lemon in his wounds. 

The constant barrage of texts and calls during practice, from various contacts with heart emojis, (and sometimes pet names, baby or honey or big boy, eugh, or darling) and his constant absences from evening classes, and what might possibly be worst of all, his stupid (yet sexy) sultry laugh as he talks on the phone at night, when he thinks Rai is asleep, a sound that Rai could only wish would be directed at him, just once. Maybe whispered in his ear, or moaned from under him, or, or ....... 

Rai covers his ears with his pillows and tries to think good thoughts.

In the morning, Yamada is gone, at who-knows-where doing who-knows-what, but Rai can’t help but wish he was there with him. He feels stupid, a few minutes later, seeing Yamada slowly eating corn flakes whilst talking to Kihei in Ticket Love’s communal kitchen-slash-dining-room-area. In his shame Rai mistakes salt for sugar but forces himself to down his cereal all the same so that the others won’t know. 

Dance practice, specifically, is the worst. Yamada has a boyfriend. He might have many, actually, but that’s really neither here nor there, but either way, he’s not single. Rai knows this. In his heart of hearts, he knows this. So why, as he sits on the ground catching his breath from practice, can he not help but stop and stare at the short live glimpses of a glistening, sweaty stomach and Yamada’s somewhat dazed and panting expression? Rai can see him from all angles, thank god for the mirrors covering the walls of the dance studio, and he takes a moment to look, really look, up and down, front and behind, seeking any exposed skin or clinging clothes that might give hint of the toned body underneath begging to be seen. 

Rai misses his mouth while going for a drink from his water bottle and spills the contents down the front of his shirt and down his pants. Lovely. For a moment Rai thinks that Yamada looks at him and laughs, and Rai considers that it might’ve been worth it, before he realizes Yamada has his phone in his hands and is laughing at something someone (probably one of his boyfriends) had sent him. Rai doesn’t bother drying off the hardwood floor he leaves behind and instead retreats to his bedroom to get a change of clothes. 

It continues in this sadistic cycle for a while before Rai makes any motion to break himself out of it. He needs an opportunity, he tells himself, he can’t just flirt with a taken man, can he? But his patience can only run so thin and last so long, and hope for an opening is soon disregarded and replaced by a somewhat savage desperation for any hint at a chance. They’ve been teammates for awhile now, what’s some flirting between friends, right? At least, that’s Rai’s excuse, as he “jokingly” buys Yamada a sexy Santa costume during their first Christmas as a group. Fortunately, Yamada does get use out of it, but unfortunately for Rai he never got the opportunity to see it. How ironic. It ends up in their garbage, covered in some bodily fluid, but Rai isn’t particularly interested in finding out which one. Hopefully Yamada just got a runny nose.

From there, things seem to go downhill. Friendly flirting. A playful pat on the ass. Jests about some kind of cosplay..... kara neko, perhaps? Before Rai just gets a little too attached, and those little ass pats become a cry for help and he knows Yamada owns Vanilla’s La Soleil uniform cosplay from Nekopara Vol. 1 but just refuses to show him. He’s not obsessed, no, he’s just desperate and feels led on. Blue balled, if you will, by who should have been his boyfriend by now if Yamada weren’t just so damn weird and mean about everything. 

It’s a worthwhile endeavor, Rai reasons, it’ll be worth it in the end once he finally has someone to give his first time (.....and..... first kiss) to (though he won’t say that outright) and, of course, cherish as a lover. Maybe get married, adopt kids, rule a fashion empire and spoil each other to the ends of the earth, normal couple things that happen on a daily basis. 

Rai’s met a few of Yamada’s..... he’ll call them “swings” for lack of a better term, and none of them can hold a candle to what he has. Most are somewhat older, a little bit on the plain side in terms of looks and all have the same cardboard personality to them. What Yamada sees in each, Rai really can’t tell, but he respects Yamada and continues his attempts at courtship fair and square. Hard work reaps rewards, and the like.

Rai thought he was making progress. He really did. It was baby steps, of course, but it was something. Hell, Sasuke no longer glared daggers at him when he made any sort of innuendo, so that was a pretty big milestone in and of itself. Sasuke hadn’t even threatened to kill him for a week! A whole week! It was a new record, as fair as Rai was concerned. But, of course, those were merely thoughts and conjectures, because good things do each come to an end.

“I think we did pretty good.” Kihei says, wiping his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Even though you’re.... y’know. I guess people like you can be good at things, too.” It was too much to expect a genuine compliment from Kihei, so Rai just accepts the vague insult and keeps going. They just performed the last song of the night, an encore duet version of their first unit single (strange, but it’s what the fans wanted), and Yamada had gone backstage during it to clean himself up for the fan meeting section afterwards. 

Arriving in the dressing room, Kihei and Rai see a young man straddling Yamada in his lap with his hands around his waist, trailing up and down and around, pausing by Yamada’s chest and his neck and his wrist. This isn’t necessarily uncommon, and Kihei just scowls and goes to his vanity where his own boyfriend is waiting for him with kind encouragements, but Rai doesn’t move from the doorway. 

Yamada turns around. “Oh, Rai. I trust things went well?” The name Rai seems to get his lover’s attention, and suddenly two pairs of eyes are boring into Rai. 

A sheepish grin and shy smile peek out from behind Yamada’s back, one that’s familiar in the most vile way. “Oh! Haha, hey, Raimen. Didn’t expect to see you here.” Ah yes, of course he didn’t, because it’s not like he had put any thought into checking up on him before this point, and he probably won’t again after this for a long, long time anyways. Was he mad that Yamada was fucking his brother? Or was he mad his brother was fucking Yamada? Or was he just mad he had to see his brother again? Who knows. Certainly not Rai, and this was entirely his own family affairs. 

“Really?” Rai says, louder than expected, and Yamada in his alarm stands up and turns to face him. “You didn’t ‘expect to see me here’, huh? Couldn’t bother to check the set list, too busy with your dick session?” His words are bitter, and mean, and he can’t recognize the voice coming out of his own mouth. It’s alarming, and shell shocking, but it’s true and it’s fair and he feels the need to say it. 

Yamada interjects first, trying to step between the two, but Rai interrupts, addressing him directly. “Whatever!” He says. “What should I expect out of you. I mean, I do so fucking much for you, every day, but you can’t even bother to give me a fucking smile, or a ‘good morning’, or a ‘thank you’!” Sure, everything he did had ulterior motives, but Rai will be damned if he wasn’t at least nice to Yamada. 

The morning breakfasts, the folded laundry, the cleaned room, the help at practice, the finished costumes, every little thing he did with kind intentions were always met with casual indifference at best, and apathy at worst. But here Yamada goes, throwing himself at Rai’s own brother before him. Wonderful. Amazing. 

Is he throwing a tantrum? Maybe. Is it fair? Definitely. But he can’t just go out to the fan meet like this, though, so he grabs his fresh clothes and makeup off his dressing table and goes out the other door at the back end and down the hall to change in the bathroom. One of his producers knocks on the door and offers to help, but he shuns her away under the guise of “I can do it myself”. 

He washes his face under cold water, and he hopes it can bring not just grime but his own jealousy and bitterness away with it. In the mirror, he looks like a mess, and he has to redo his hair twenty times over before he looks presentable enough to show the fans. He’s an idol. A character. Who cares if he’s alone. He has thousands of people willing to throw themselves at him once he goes back onstage. It’s fine. He’s fine. 

He takes a deep breath. It’s fine.


End file.
